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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419194">Mother's Matchmaking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobu_akuma/pseuds/nobu_akuma'>nobu_akuma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Jon Sims being a Bastard, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Matchmaking, Mother Spider just wants to see people fall in love, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, spoilers through season 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:20:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,812</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419194</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobu_akuma/pseuds/nobu_akuma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever Annabelle Cane had expected when she became Avatar of the Web, it had certainly not been Mother sending her off on matchmaking. Annabelle was rather used to these errands when Mother gave her her most difficult challenge yet. Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mother's Matchmaking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A very happy Valentine's day to one and all! I hope you have a nice day with loved ones, platonic, romantic or familial! (Also in which I steal dialogue directly from the transcripts)</p><p>Enjoy! ~Nobu</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Whatever Annabelle Cane had expected when she became Avatar of the Web, it had certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>been Mother taking an interest in her love life or lack thereof. It wasn't that Mother would send </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> off on missions to influence random people to end up together. Annabelle had assumed it was to cause havoc and fear by making bad matches but more often than not, Mother would make happy noises that reminded her of fangirls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabelle was rather used to these errands when Mother gave her her most difficult challenge yet. Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabelle had assumed a simple meet-cute would be enough. It was incredibly easy to get the dog to run into the Magnus Institute's Archives. And easy enough to lead this </span>
  <em>
    <span>Martin</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the other man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, sorry, you haven't seen a dog, have you?" Martin asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon blinked at him, "I'm s- Sorry, what?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin stepped further into the room, fiddling with the sleeve of his hand-knit sweater, "Um, uh, a dog. A-a Spaniel, I think?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon seemed to be rebooting for a moment, brow furrowed in clear confusion, "In- In general or?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin laughed, the sound soft and nervous, "N-n-no, in the Archives."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Annabelle thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that should do it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But oh how wrong Annabelle was. It had all fallen apart after that, Jon's truly horrible attitude making him threaten to fire poor Martin. And as months passed, Jon continued to make snarky comments and act like a complete pick as Martin did his absolute best and even brought the other man tea daily!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabelle was starting to wonder if Mother was trying to test her. Her patience, her loyalty, her skill. Otherwise it made no sense for her to get this infuriating task!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span> Martin disappeared. For the life of her, she couldn't find him. The last time anyone had laid eyes on him was when he'd ran out of Vittery's old complex. The days passed and she kept her eyes open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Did Martin get kidnapped or murdered? If so, was Annabelle going to be held responsible by Mother for not noticing? Or would she finally be rid of this matchmaker status? Annabelle was ready to throw in the towel and tell Mother when something insane happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin returned to the Archives, exhausted, anxious and determined. She listened as Martin gave Jon his statement and watched as something seemed to shift in Jon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you sure about all this, Martin?" Jon asked. Annabelle leaned forward in surprise. Was that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>softness</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his voice she heard!?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Look," Martin sighed, "I'm not going to lie to you about something like this, Jon. I… like my job. Most of the time."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon seemed to be assessing his options for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Offer him a place to stay, you prat!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Annabelle wanted to scream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Very well." Jon nodded, "In which case, there’s a room in the Archives I use to sleep when working late. I suggest you stay there for now. I’ll talk to Elias about whether we can get extra security, but the Archives have enough locks for now. It’s also supposed to be humidity controlled and, though it hasn’t been working for some time, it does mean it’s well-sealed. Nothing will be sneaking through any window cracks."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabelle wasn't sure whether she wanted to rip Jon apart for not offering his own home or if she wanted to rejoice at the subtle worry in Jon's voice. On one hand, the domestic nature of living together would've really helped Annabelle out. On the other, Jon was taking the threat of the Corruption seriously enough to want to keep Martin both safe as possible and close at hand and that meant he </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, guess I'm invested in this relationship.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Annabelle thought, rubbing her face tiredly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Surely this will move things along.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Annabelle thought as she watched Martin, dressed only in his pants, head toward where Jon was starting to record.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabelle pulled a string, the door creaking as Martin opened it. Jon paused mid-sentence to look over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shock splashed across Jon's face and he quickly looked away, "Martin! Good lord man, if you’re going to be staying in the Archives, at </span>
  <em>
    <span>least</span>
  </em>
  <span> have the decency to put some trousers on!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh god, sorry, sorry!" Martin startled, a deep blush flooding his face, "I didn’t think you were in until later; it’s not even seven yet."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon cleared his throat, "Yes, well, I’ve been coming in early in the hopes of leaving this place before dark."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It’s been a week and we’ve seen nothing." Martin wrung his hands, "Do you really think she’s still out there?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh for the love of Mother! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Annabelle angrily ran her hands through her hair. Jon and Martin spoke for a moment more before Martin left and Jon continued his work. Like nothing had happened. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Killing them would be so much easier</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabelle kept watch, tugging a web or two as needed to keep Jon just a little longer in the Archives. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A few more minutes to talk with Martin wouldn't hurt, would it Jon?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had made her peace that this was going to be more of a slow burn than her previous assignments. It was fine. It meant she could try a few of the more outrageous romance tropes, after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, okay, maybe Annabelle felt a bit of victory every time Jon argued with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Elias</span>
  </em>
  <span> over security or the fire suppression system. Or when Martin would challenge Jon's skepticism or "pragmatism" with a mischievous look in his eyes. Perhaps Annabelle smiled a bit when the two ate a meal together or put their heads together on a statement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon was staying later and later by Martin's side. Martin was getting more and more confident and comfortable at speaking to Jon as an equal. Jon had started to prove he was more than just a prick, dry wit and warmth leaking out whenever Martin engaged with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All in all, Annabelle couldn't have expected better results from these two. Her eyes lit up at an opportunity to lock them in a room together. She sent an agent to scurry about Jon's office and watched the chaos unfold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabelle smiled as they were left alone in the soundproof room. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good, let's see where this goes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon put up his usual defense mechanism of denial only for Martin to knock it down. Tired, in pain and losing quite a bit of blood, Jon admitted to believing in the supernatural. In being scared. They found a middle ground and there was a beat where they just breathed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon looked over at Martin with a frown. "Why are you here Martin?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin blinked then shrugged, "Well, well, Prentiss is out there and you can’t run so-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I mean at the Archive in general." Jon gestured vaguely, "Why haven’t you quit?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin's voice turned incredulous, "Are you giving me my review </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No… We’re clearly doing a whole heart-to-heart thing and, truth be told, the question’s been bothering me." Jon frowned before continuing, "You’ve been living in the Archives for four months, constant threat of… this. Sleeping with a fire extinguisher and a corkscrew. Even you must be aware that that’s not normal for an archiving job? Why are you still here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin took a moment to consider his point, "Don’t really know. I just am. It didn’t feel right to just leave. I’ve typed up a few resignation letters, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hand them in… I’m trapped here. It’s like I can’t… move on and the more I struggle, the more I’m stuck."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon eyed him warily, weighing his options then managing, "Martin…You’re not, uh… You didn’t die here, did you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin did a double take, "What? What? N-No… what?!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, I just…" Jon tried to backpedal, "No, just the way you phrased that…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The incredulity was back full force in Martin's voice, "Made you think I was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghost</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No… it’s-" Jon stammered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, no… it’s just that whatever web these statements have caught you in, well, I’m there too. We all are, I think." Martin let put a heavy sigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a beat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"A ghost? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jon?" Martin asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annabelle snorted as Jon told Martin to shut up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was rather fascinating to watch the rest of the chaos unfold. Annabelle felt a bit of pity for the assistant that was lost. She could've been a good asset for Mother. Too late now though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually things settled and Jon </span>
  <em>
    <span>insisted </span>
  </em>
  <span>on getting statements from everyone. Annabelle kept an eye on what replaced the assistant, just in case it tried to make a move against the others. She couldn't have it destroying all the </span>
  <em>
    <span>months</span>
  </em>
  <span> of work she'd done to get Jon and Martin as close as they were.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She breathed a sigh of relief when Martin took the seat across from Jon. He was shaken and exhausted, but he was him. Annabelle wouldn't have to wage a one-woman war on the Stranger today and she was grateful for that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sorry," Martin all but whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, it’s fine. I just…" Jon waved aimlessly, voice tight from pain, "I only need from when you got separated. From when you got lost in the tunnels."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, I mean…" Martin refused to meet Jon's eye, "I’m sorry I left you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon seemed at a loss for words and then, softly found, "Oh, Martin."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It was an accident." Martin wiped at his eyes, at his tears, "I thought you two were with me! I mean, the worms came at us, and they were so much faster, and then there was the gas, and the running, and I just… I, I thought you were right behind me. But when I turned round you were gone. You were both gone. It was an accident."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know. It’s fine, Martin." Jon said </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> softly, hand taking one of Martin's, "Everybody’s… Everyone’s fine… I just… need you to tell me what happened next, and then it’s finished."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so Martin recapped everything for Jon and his recorder. Throughout the whole thing, Jon continued to hold Martin's hand, squeezing it when Martin stumbled or looked like he was going to cry. It was a small, quiet gesture but anyone could see how much it meant to both the men.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Martin finished his tale and Jon nodded, "Thank you, Martin."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah." Martin murmured, exhaustion clearly hitting with full force.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right." Jon turned off the recorder and stood, still holding Martin's hand, "Let's go home."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They said nothing as they left the Institute and eventually made their way to Jon's home. Too worn for properness or even speech, they fell onto Jon's bed and free fell into unconsciousness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe tomorrow Annabelle would have to pull more strings to help tie them closer together, but for now, they deserved their rest away from prying eyes and sticky webs.</span>
</p>
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